


Stormy Days

by Quepasta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, destiel au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quepasta/pseuds/Quepasta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel, smart, book loving, and hoping Castiel has been diagnosed as cancer free. He has dreamed of not being sick since he was a kid. Now given his future back, he goes out to celebrate, and hopefully to discover the new Castiel. But with a new live, comes new adventures, and Cas must learn that there will be warm sunshiny days, but stormy days as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stormy Days

My legs became numb as they banged against the edge of the examining table. The metal was cold against my skin when I still felt it, now I don’t feel the rimmed edge of the base as it digs into the backs of my legs, definitely leaving marks later. I looked over at my mom, who was staring out the window intently and chewing her nails like there was no tomorrow. She looked over at me, and smiled over her fingers. She was just as nervous as I was, probably more.

Having cancer was bad, I guess. Being pronounced terminal was bad too. But I could live with it, until I didn’t have to anymore. But my mom would have to live with it forever. After I had “gone”, she would have to go to my funeral, clean my room out, have to deal with neighbors and friends, she would have to explain how she had once had a kid, but no longer due to the impeccable voyage of the cancer patient.

When the opportunity to go through a trial drug test that may or may not slow down my leukemia, or possibly make it disappear for good, I jumped at the chance. Did I do it for me? Perhaps, did I do it for my mom? Most likely.

Now after almost a year of taking experimentation medicine, we are here. Waiting, waiting since I was seven years old and passed out during a soccer game and was taken to the hospital. Waking up from something as happy as a soccer game and going to something as life changing as cancer is hard to handle being seven, or any age.

I stared at the door, begging it to open. Please open with good news, please. Please let Dr. Venice walk in with a big smile and say congrats, you have your life back. Dr. Venice had been my doctor since I was 10, after Dr. DeAneglo resigned after the birth of her baby. She had been a nice woman, but she had decided to be a stay at home mom. I see her sometimes, her and my mom are still close.  The clock struck three o’ clock. The test results should be back by now. Where is he?

My legs continued to bang against the table, the long hospital gown stretching against my knees. “Castiel, can you please stop that, you’re driving me crazy.” My mothered called from the window seat. She was still biting her nails, staring out the window. She had been skeptical about the medication at first, but ultimately decided it was my life, my choice.

Then the door opened, and Dr. Venice walked in. He was a tall African American man, with a long white beard that reached the middle of his chest. He wore small round glasses, and almost no hair on his scalp. I used to call him Santa because he gave me candy and little toys whenever I had an appointment.

“Good afternoon Castiel, hello Mrs. Novak. I’m so sorry it took so long, we were just double checking everything.” He closed the door behind him with a smile on his face. “It has been a long journey Castiel, and you have been through a lot.” He stopped to look at his clipboard. He was also a theatrical man, liked to build up suspense. “The test results show that you have zero percent leukemia cells in your system, and that everything is back to normal. In other words, you are cancer free. Congratulations, the storm is over.” He pulled his glasses off, and smiled ear to ear.

It took me a moment to realize what he had said. The storm was over. I had been imagining the words “cancer free” since I was diagnosed. Now they apply to me. Cancer had always defined me. When I walked out in public you could tell I had cancer, bald head, thin limbs, and an oxygen tank sometimes.

My mom jumped up from her chair, tears swelling in her eyes as she stood in front of me and hugged me. “Do you hear that baby? You aren’t sick anymore.” She whispered in my ear. I wrapped my arms around her, my sleeves pulling at my shoulders. I saw Dr. Venice smiling behind my mom, watching our moment.

“I hate to break this up, but there are some measure still to be taken. Castiel, your immune system, bones and muscles were damaged by the leukemia. We will be giving you medication to help build those up again. Here is the list of the names, descriptions and dosage of each one Mrs. Novak. If you or Castiel have any concerns please feel free to contact me at any time.” Hr handed the paper to my mom. “I have another appointment to get to. I will be sending in one of our volunteers in to give you the medication and other things we will be sending you home with, he will also walk you to checkout, as he will need to show you some paperwork. He has been volunteering here for a long time, and has experience. I fully trust him. See you around Castiel.” The doctor winked at me then left the room.

I didn’t know I had been crying until my mother handed me a tissue. “Thanks.” I laughed, taking it from her. My mother smiled at me, with the bluest eyes I have ever seen. They were a deep sapphire, so pure people often asked if she wore colored contacts. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and fell in cascading waves. She was gorgeous, always had been. But she was more than my pretty mother, she did everything she could to find money for my treatments or surgeries. Even after dad left, she took care of me.

The door swung open again, and in walked a young man. He was wearing a blue t-shirt with the name of the hospital spelled across it. Over it he wore a black leather jacket, and biker boots, with dark washed jeans.

“Are you Castiel Novak?” The boy questioned, looking at his clipboard. Behind him he wheeled a cart full of syringes, pill bottles, and disinfectant wipes.

“Yes I am.” I replied. He smiled at my mom and me, then walked further in the room.

“Well, I have heard the good news and want to say congratulations. Being diagnosed as cancer free feels amazing.” He smiled while writing things down on the clipboard. The sunlight from the window fell across his face, and set his eyes ablaze a deep evergreen hue. I felt the need to ask if he wore contacts, as they were colorful in the way my mothers were.

“You know?” I went on, wondering what his connection was to this hospital.

He chuckled, pulling on latex gloves. “When I was eight they found a cancerous brain tumor after a bicycle accident. I had surgery to remove it a year later, and I was only sick for a year, then the cancer was gone. But I remember how it felt to be put on a hospital bed all the time, or have such and such samples taken. I have been volunteering here since I was 13. Also my mom is a nurse here, she says it keeps me out of trouble, and in her sight.”

My mother grinned out of the corner of my eye. “Cas was diagnosed when he was seven. It seems like miracle now, after all this time he’s finally better.”

“My mom felt the same way. Mary Winchester do you know her? I’m Dean by the way.” He held his hand out to my mother, leaning the clipboard against his hip.

“I think we have met her. Long blonde curly hair right?” Dean nodded. “Really nice lady, all of the nurses have been wonderful here. I might actually miss seeing some of them so much.” She explained. I could tell my mom liked Dean, as much as she usually liked the volunteers. But there was something about Dean, that even I could notice, that fit in with our flow. He made the appointment less awkward.  “What does your father do?”

“Oh, well.” He paused, becoming quiet all of the sudden. “He was a firefighter, about a year okay he was injured pretty badly in a fire. He just hasn’t been the same since then.” He looked at the ground, smothering a stain on the tile with his boot. Then he looked up and shook his head slightly. “Ok Castiel, this blue bottle here,” He held up the blue bottle. “You must take three pills a day. Plus this red one here,” Dean grabbed the other bottle, waved it a little, and shoved it into a paper sack. “This one is just two pills a day. They are sending you home with a couple of self-injected shots that will stimulate muscle and bone growth. Do these once a week, try to keep it consistent. If you forget it should be on the paper.” He pointed to the piece of paper my mom still clutched in her hand.

My mom took the sack from Dean, and said her thanks. She and Dean waited outside the room while I changed-a striped t-shirt and jeans. Dean walked us down to check out, where we were met by Dean’s mom.

“Hello you must be Castiel, I heard the news. I’m so happy for you!” She beamed as we walked up to the desk.

“Thank you Mary.” I replied. Dean and Mary from first glance looked nothing alike, but then you saw the same curve of their lips, and their eyes were almost the same color. Dean’s hair was a light brown, almost debatable dark blonde too.  I wondered if Dean looked anything like his dad.

“Hey Dean, don’t you have a party to go to tonight? You should invite Castiel.” His mother suggested, while typing things into the computer.

“Oh well, I don’t know. He might be tired. Are you tired Castiel? It might not be your scene either.” Dean stuttered. He looked at me with some sort of expression, trying to communicate something to me.

“That would be a great idea. Don’t you think Cas? A Celebratory night out.” Mom exclaimed, touching my shoulder.

“Um yeah sounds fun, but uh only if Dean is okay with it. It’s his friends.” I looked at Dean to as if to say ‘now is your chance to say if you don’t want me to go’.

Dean looked straight back at me. “Yeah sounds cool. You want to go Castiel?”

He had totally misread my facial expression. I didn’t want to seem like a dick, or another lame cancer kid which I bet Dean saw all the time. After a second of debating whether or not to go, I came to a conclusion. “Count me in.”


End file.
